


we are all just trying to be holy

by lilaliacs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dark Academia AU, Drama Students, F/F, M/M, Multi, renjun centric, some cheeky ritual murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaliacs/pseuds/lilaliacs
Summary: Renjun wonders if all students at prestigious art schools made it a habit to sneak out of their dorms at night to do God-knows-what, or if his housemates were just a very peculiar breed.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, and others if you pay attention
Comments: 13
Kudos: 96





	1. ACT I

**Author's Note:**

> The next installment of lilaliacs classics: an incredibly self indulgent au. i stan nct and loona, i do it for the arts not the charts. 
> 
> the school system makes absolutely no sense, i took heavy inspiration from if we were villains by m.l. rio and just bullshitted everything else as it was convenient for the story, pls roll with it.
> 
> enjoy!

**Act I, Scene I**

_ A young man walks to center stage. He is pulling a battered suitcase and stops to look at the backdrop, a regal looking school building. He sighs. _

_MRS. HUANG, offstage:_ You know how your father feels about art school. We are giving you this one chance, so don’t screw it up, Honey. We want what’s best for you, and we want to support you even if you don’t know what the best for yourself is yet. 

_ The young man sighs again. Exit left. _

* * *

Renjun is going to drop out of school. 

He’s going to give up his scholarship, he is going to prove his parents right and he is going to return to his hometown and go back to community college there. It’s only a few weeks into term, it shouldn’t be impossible. 

A door slams closed a floor below. “Jeno, you _idiot_.” Someone hisses, Renjun thinks it might be Hyunjin, but he doesn’t wait to find out more. Instead he groans and buries his head under his pillow. 

It seemed like a dream, when he got accepted for a scholarship at SM, Academy for performing arts. The school was exclusive, renowned and above all, expensive. Yet, somehow, Renjun made it, without ever informing his parents, probably the most _average_ person to ever make it. It has to have taken up his entire life’s worth of luck, and Renjun knows he’s being ungrateful. 

There is a splash outside his window. 

Renjun wonders if all students at prestigious art schools made it a habit to sneak out of their dorms at night to do God-knows-what, or if his housemates were just a very peculiar breed. 

“It’s going to be tricky,” His mother had told him. “These kids have been together for two years, and you don’t know any of them.” It had been her fifth attempt to get to keep him from going, yet Renjun knows she doesn’t have bad intentions. “I just don’t want you to be all alone there,” She had sighed. 

Renjun wouldn’t say he is alone. SM had a pretty small campus, the junior drama class consisted of only about twenty people, but five of them lived in the same house as him. After some research, Renjun had found that the house he was to live in had been built for the youngest daughter of the Lee family, at the outskirts of the estate right where the creek going through campus got lost in the woods. The girl had never lived here, because she had caught some type of disease in her teens and succumbed to it, so the house had been empty until the property was turned into a school and it had been populated by drama kids. 

He wonders what Haeun Lee would think about some random scholarship kid laying awake in her attic room, contemplating the point of every single one of his life decisions. She had been only a little younger than him when she died. Renjun likes to think she is maybe still haunting the building, and if she is, he likes to think that she would be on his side. 

Because that’s how it had shaped up to be, as much as it bothers him that his mother was right: There is Renjun, and then there are the others, already a tight-knit bunch. The first few days, when Renjun still chalked the awkwardness up to his own shyness, he watched them move around each other like they were a well-oiled machine, practiced movements, bordering on telepathy. Renjun was usually in the way. 

By now they have learned to move around him, but that doesn’t mean Renjun is part of the machine. He is just there, and they got used to him, easy as that. 

It is not as if they’re mean to him. They’re not middle schoolers, Renjun isn’t being bullied, he assures his mother when she asks him if he made any friends yet. 

“They’re _nice_ ”, He tells her, and it’s not a lie. Heejin throws his laundry in with hers without him having to ask, Donghyuck let him borrow his hairdryer when Renjun’s broke. They’re all nice to him. Yet even in their smiles, their stilted greetings, their every action there is something that alienates Renjun. Or perhaps it alienates them. It’s something he would describe as hungry, were he a more poetic man than he is, something empty, longing to be filled. He didn’t think people like them, growing up how they had, they would know what hunger is. As it is, he simply describes it as slightly off-setting. 

In his head, he catches himself likening them to a murder of crows, a pack of wolves. He texted Sicheng about it once. _”Just because you don’t vibe with someone doesn’t make them an animal of prey or a harbinger of death.”_ Sicheng had said. But then Jaemin and Donghyuck had sweeped into the kitchen, laughing, loud, shoving at each other. Play Fighting, Renjun had thought. Sharpening their teeth for the real deal. They were gone as quickly as they came, and he was left in silence. 

Renjun isn’t alone, but he feels lonely. 

It makes sense, he figures. He might not know what his housemates do on their nightly endeavors, but he is fairly certain they had been up to it since long before he came here. You probably couldn’t replicate a bond shaped by running around the woods at night, howling at the moon, in just some weeks. 

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been staring at the ceiling, lost in thought until the door creaks open. Quickly, he pretends to be asleep, appreciating that Jaemin is at least trying to be quiet now, as he tip-toes across the narrow room to his bed. 

In the morning, Renjun will get up at least half an hour before Jaemin, as he always had the past two weeks. Conversation will be kept to the bare minimum of Jaemin asking Renjun to open the window at his side of the room, asking to borrow a pen for class. Then they will be off to class, separately, won’t sit next to each other at lunch, go back to the dorm and do their own thing until lights out. Renjun will try to sleep and Jaemin will pretend to do the same. Then it will knock on the door softly, and Jaemin will leave and Renjun will be kept awake by his pack of housemates attempting to sneak around quietly. So much for an exposition. 

* * *

“Hamlet,” Doyoung says, spreading his arms into the artful pause he leaves afterwards. “I’ve been looking forward to doing this with you.” 

The most peculiar thing about SM, according to Renjun’s mother, is their professor’s aversion to being called by their last name. 

“Well, what do artists know about authority?” His father had hummed. Renjun had chuckled, because clearly his father hadn’t met a man that commanded authority the way Doyoung does. 

He quiets the chatter that had started at his introduction with only a look and continues: “It’s been a while since the junior play got to be a classic as popular as this one, and I expect you all to be ready to put in the necessary work, both on stage and in class.” He throws another look around, then turns to the blackboard. 

_Madness_ he writes, in flowing letters, and underlines it. Then he sets down the chalk, walks back to his desk and leans against it, nearly casually. “Thoughts?” He throws into the room. 

This is another well-practiced routine that Renjun cannot seem to get the hang of. Doyoung’s single word starts a discussion so fast-paced and continuous as if it had been scripted and memorised before. No one halts to rethink their statement, no one falters.

“Hamlet only pretends to be mad to divert suspicion,” Jinyoung says, “No actually mad person would think that far.” 

“He kills way too many people to be sane,” Chaewon gives back. 

“He does it all to revenge his father. I didn’t know you had to have a screw loose to be vengeful,” Jaemin quips. 

“ _After_ he sees a ghost who tells him so. I think it’s more than just one screw.” That’s Chaewon again. 

“Horatio sees the ghost too,” Jeno points out. 

“Horatio is also the only person who doesn’t die,” Hyunjin adds. 

“How is that relevant?” Chaewon asks, and it’s not accusing. She is genuinely interested and Renjun wants to pull his hair out. 

“It’s not,” Hyunjin explains. “I just like to point that out.” 

“Gay rights,” Donghyuck whoops from directly in front of Renjun. 

Doyoung clears his throat, a clear sign to steer the discussion back on track, but he is smiling. Renjun’s parents would be losing their minds if they knew what kind of classes they aren’t paying for. 

“You’ve only mentioned two characters so far,” Doyoung points out. “Renjun, any thoughts?” 

Renjun sits up a little straighter, which probably looks ridiculous, because Donghyuck in front of him and Jeno next to him are basically horizontal in their chairs. He’s just a tiny bit terrified of Doyoung. 

He hadn’t been given the fast-paced script the others had been reciting until now, so he takes a moment to think. “One could argue…” He starts slowly, “That Ophelia’s madness is just as ambivalent as Hamlet’s.” 

“She drowns herself on purpose,” Jinyoung deadpans. 

“Not necessarily,” Renjun throws back. 

“There’s something very poetic about the way she goes mad with love after it’s what Hamlet is accused of,” Yeji speaks up from another corner. 

“I don’t know if losing your mind is particularly poetic,” Renjun says, and he is a little surprised with himself. 

“What did you mean just now, saying that her madness is ambivalent?” Jaemin asks. When Renjun turns to him, he nearly shrinks back into his seat with the intensity of his eyes. He doesn’t think Jaemin has actually _looked_ at him in the weeks they have lived together. 

“Well, I don’t think everything is necessarily as it seems on paper, and I don’t even think that everything has to be as the playwright intended. Ophelia might as well have had a similar plan to Hamlet, and she died for knowing too much. If the person staging the play so pleases. Every character is ambivalent to every audience, it’s how drama works. According to Brecht.” 

Renjun doesn’t think he has spoken that many words in a row since he got here. The discussion picks back up and Renjun gets lost in its rapid speed. He doesn’t speak up again, feeling absolutely oversaturated with the attention he’s gotten today, yet every time he looks up, he still feels Jaemin’s eyes on him. 

* * *

**Act I, Scene III**

_ THE PACK gathered around a fireplace, in varying degrees of consciousness. The light of the fire is reflecting on their faces. The atmosphere is homey and warm, different than RENJUN has experienced it until now. _

_JAEMIN, sitting up:_ I still think it’s the right thing to do. 

_DONGHYUCK:_ Yes, your morals outshine us all. _(He yawns.)_

_JAEMIN:_ That’s not the point— 

_HEEJIN, interrupting him:_ We barely know him. I don’t know if this is the time to be listening to your gut. 

_HYUNJIN, sleepily from where she is laying across HEEJIN’s and JENO’s laps:_ Your gut is usually wrong, Jaem. 

_JENO:_ I think we should just focus on Halloween. 

_DONGHYUCK:_ Hear, hear! 

_ End Scene. _

* * *

Even with all that Renjun avoids talking to people ( _A very nasty defense mechanism_ , his older brother called it.), he couldn’t possibly avoid the shift in atmosphere as the end of October approaches. 

“It’s nearly Halloween,” Yiren tells him matter of factly when he jumps over his shadow and asks about it over stage-fighting practice one afternoon. When he just blankly blinks at her, she nods. “You wouldn’t know.” 

It’s only when they have gotten back in position and it’s her turn to point a dagger at his throat, that she decides to explain. 

“It’s SM tradition. Every Halloween, Doyoung chooses a group of drama majors to stage a piece of the school’s history. They get pretty much full artistic license over historical events.” She sidesteps his lunge, as planned. “Last year he chose some dance majors as well and they did a contemporary choreo on Taemin Lee’s fallout with the family. Very angsty.” 

Renjun makes a deliberate stupid move to the left and lets her press the faux dagger against his artery. The rubber is weirdly cold. “So, what’s it going to be this year?” He asks, when she lowers the dagger and they get into position for the next sequence. 

Yiren shrugs. “No one knows beforehand. We’re not supposed to know who the chosen ones are either.” 

“But?” Renjun voices what she hasn’t. 

Yiren nods over his shoulder to where Renjun’s housemates stand in pairs closer to each other than the rest of their class. Heejin is currently flitting in between Jaemin and Donghyuck, correcting their stances before she gives them the okay to disarm Hyunjin and Jeno. 

“Just a hunch, but we’re all guessing Doyoung’s little band of misfits got it this year. They’ve been real secretive lately. But then that’s just how they are.” 

“Misfits?” Renjun repeats, incredulous. If anything, he had always seen the five of them as the epitome of what this school is expecting of him. Everything he isn’t. 

Yiren chuckles lightly as she blocks his arm, a little harsher than planned because Renjun hadn’t been paying attention and got a little too close to her face. “They all hate this school for some reason or another.” 

Before he can ask further, a shrill whistle sounds. Seulgi telling them to wrap up. Yiren throws Renjun a towel and a long, thoughtful look. “Seems like you fit right in at Haeun’s manor.” She quips, then bounds off to where Eunji is waiting for her. 

* * *

It’s no secret that Renjun does not like attention. He doesn’t say it out loud often: Actions speak louder than words, and his natural state of being is merging into the background of everything. 

But sometimes it needs to be pointed out. When his mother suggests he run for student body president in 11th grade. When his father tries to make him sing in front of a family gathering. 

Once Sicheng asked him why he wanted to pursue acting. “I can’t think of a lot of careers where you are more in the spotlight,” He’d pointed out. And Renjun guesses his brother has a point, but at the same time he couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

At no point does anyone look less at _Renjun_ than when he is acting. They look at a character. Renjun himself stepping back into the shadow, losing himself in costumes and words that other people have come up with, emotions other people have felt. It’s as easy as breathing. It’s as easy as sitting back in the back of a classroom and letting discussion wash over him. 

Renjun doesn’t like the limelight, doesn’t like being stared at, really _looked_ at, doesn’t like being judged for him. 

Five pairs of eyes are staring into his soul. Predators observing their prey. A pack of wolves and a fawn separated from the herd. He doesn’t know the house well enough to know where to slink off to. 

“You’re home late,” Heejin points out and in another situation he would have laughed. _Home_. Right now he feels like he should apologise. 

“Did you have dinner?” Jeno asks, and it sounds a little kinder. 

“How very parental of you two,” Donghyuck drawls, and kicks Jeno in the thigh for good measure. Renjun isn’t sure if he doesn’t do the same to Heejin out of fear or laziness. 

“There’s an unopened bag of chips somewhere,” Hyunjin throws in Renjun’s direction and gestures vaguely at the assortment of snack wrappers on the table. “And an also untouched tupper of vegan crackers.” She directs this with a pointed look at Donghyuck. 

“I’ll get you guys to live healthy and sustainably at one point and you will thank me for it,” He sniffs, digging into an already halfway empty bag of Doritos. 

“Not if your healthy and sustainable food is always gross.” 

“It wouldn’t be if _someone_ didn’t always interfere.” 

“I’m not interfering, I’m _helping_.” 

“It’s okay, Jeno, sweetie, I’m sure Hyuck doesn’t mean it like that. The crackers are still inedible.” 

“I think you’re just biased.” 

“I think you just suck.” 

“Like your crackers.” 

It’s fast-paced and endless, just like class, just like every conversation of his housemates Renjun has ever walked in on. It bothers him a little less tonight. It’s proof that their initial tries, even if it had _seemed_ like they were trying to vaguely include him, was just a minor lapse in judgement on Heejin and Jeno’s part. He would be able to sleep better not having to think of any other possibilities. 

He keeps his eyes trained on the ping pong match of inside jokes, waiting for all participants to be engaged enough that he can tip-toe up the stairs without pulling their attention back to him. He doesn’t bank on meeting Jaemin’s eyes straight on. 

“Renjun,” He says, and just like that the ping pong match is over, the ball is lost, the rackets splintered, all because of Renjun’s name. “You can sit down if you want.” 

And Renjun can’t really do anything against his limbs moving and arranging themselves next to Jaemin on the corner of the loveseat. Heejin on the armchair on his other side nudges a bag of chips closer to him and then their conversation picks up at a point that Renjun hadn’t been there for. But now he is there, and unlike every other time he has been, this time it matters. 

“I don’t think Renjun needs to know about that,” Jeno says, his ears a very deep shade of red, all while Heejin deems it absolutely necessary that Renjun knows. 

“Thoughts?” Donghyuck asks, his eyebrows eager, as he follows Renjun’s every facial expression after he bit off a little bit of an infamous cracker. 

“You have to wiggle the knob a bit to get the water really hot but not scalding,” Hyunjin explains to him through a yawn. 

And suddenly it is 2AM and Renjun has learned of the time Jeno embarrassed himself in front of the senior year valedictorian when they were freshmen, that Donghyuck is a terrible baker and that he won’t have to take icy showers for the rest of his SM career. 

Before he falls in to his bed he catches Jaemin’s eyes across the room again and hears his quiet “Sweet dreams”, just as he flicks the light switch. 

He feels as if something has shifted, and he can’t say in which direction. 


	2. ACT II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is CHUNKY and gets pretty heavy at times, pls look out for that!
> 
> -Depiction of that cheeky ritual murder in the tags starting from Heejin's entrance on Halloween to the end of the following scene.
> 
> -Recreational drug use for the entirety of the chapter after the Halloween performance
> 
> -Recounting of rape starting with Heejin's entrance in scene 7 and ending with that scene
> 
> enjoy!!

**Act II, Scene I**

_ The stage is scarecly lit as if by only candlelight. The figures walking across aren’t easily made out, shadows more than people. The sounds of a forest at night are heard in the background. _

_VOICE 1:_ Well, I like him. 

_VOICE 2:_ You like everyone as long as they don’t openly insult you. 

_VOICE 3:_ Sometimes even if they openly insult him.

_VOICE 1:_ That’s not tru—

_VOICE 3:_ Hey, dude, no judgement, you can be into anything you want. 

_VOICE 1:_ I hate you. 

_VOICE 3:_ Like, in a sexy way?

_VOICE 2:_ I thought that was old news?

_VOICE 4:_ Guys, _focus_. 

_VOICES 1,2,3:_ Sorry. 

_VOICE 1, quieter:_ I still hate you. 

_VOICE 4:_ I like him too, for the record. I’m just not sure he can be trusted. 

_VOICE 5:_ I trust him.

_VOICE 3:_ Well, if _that’s_ the case, I guess we just _have_ to tell him all of our deepest darkest secrets tomorrow over breakfast. 

_VOICE 5:_ I think we should. 

_VOICE 4:_ Jury’s still out on that one. Now shut up, we’re here.

_ The sound of something big and heavy being moved. The sounds and light cut out completely at once. _

_ End Scene. _

* * *

It’s been strange. Renjun wouldn’t ever admit it to his family, insists that he is having the time of his life, but strange is really the only word that applies. 

It’s not every day that you suddenly have friends from one day to another, not because of any effort of your own, but simply because they seemed to have decided it should be so. 

Jaemin gets up with him in the mornings now. Hyunjin saves him a couple of blueberry pancakes for breakfast on the weekends. Heejin and him did homework in the common room, some kind of silent camaraderie in the air. Donghyuck had told him a very intricate conspiracy theory on Doyoung’s marital status, and hadn’t even abandoned him when Jeno had come home, simply pulled him into his lap and asked him for backup on the especially outrageous parts. 

It felt ridiculous. Renjun felt the need to ask them whether no one ever taught them not to befriend their food. 

“Alright, partner up!” Seulgi calls as soon as they walk into the gym. Renjun begins to look for Yiren, but is distracted by fingers wrapping around his biceps. 

“Dibs,” Jaemin grins and Renjun thinks _Oh, so this is when I get torn to shreds and devoured_.

Jaemin pulls him to where Hyunjin is loudly proclaiming she could knock Jeno out with one arm. Donghyuck is trying to bet on her, Heejin is trying to bet against her, Jeno is smiling as they pile their stuff in their usual corner. Renjun is on pack territory. 

The thought amuses him, because technically he lives on pack territory but somehow this feels more real. He catches Yiren’s eyes across the gym and she holds it for a few seconds, then turns to whisper something to Eunji and Yoorim. This feels final. 

_It’s going to be when they have to mop my remains from the floor._

The routine for today is hand to hand combat. Seulgi says something about the Brazilian art of Capoeira, about a fight that looks like a dance, balance instead of violence. Renjun catches himself only listening with half an ear as his eyes are trained on Jaemin’s back as he stretches next to him. A muscle in Jaemin’s neck jumps and Renjun lets out a long quiet breath. 

At the end of the breath, Jaemin has turned back to him, with the same sharp grin, canines on full display and ready to tear. “Ready?” 

Instead of replying, Renjun gets into starting position. From the corner of his eye he can see Hyunjin making the first offensive movement against Jeno, and it’s not the one Seulgi showed to them earlier, it’s quicker and sharper. She probably wants to win that bet. 

Jaemin moves forward, Renjun moves back. It’s choreography before it is anything else, Jaemin’s offensive strikes causing Renjun to lift an arm in defense. A step back meant a step to follow. A breath out meant a breath in. 

They repeat once, twice, three times and that sharp glint never leaves Jaemin’s eyes. A bead of sweat runs down his forehead, the side of his face, down his neck as the same muscle jumps and he moves forward, and disappears under the neck of his shirt. Renjun follows it as he goes through the motions. 

Faintly he hears something heavy hitting the mat a bit to his right. He assumes it’s Jeno. He never stops moving, instead trails the path his eyes had made back up to Jaemin’s face. When he meets his eyes it isn’t as unexpected as many other times he has. But something catches. Something jumps. Sparks. 

His next movement isn’t the practiced _One, Two, Three_ of choreography. It’s quickly upwards, quickly around Jaemin’s neck and that _cursed_ muscle, quickly a strong hand pushing at his hip and throwing him off balance. 

He shifts, pulls, turns and suddenly Jaemin is on the ground, on his back, and Renjun is above him, hands on either of his forearms, legs on either side of his chest. He heaves a breath in as Jaemin heaves one out. 

“That’s enough,” Seulgi’s voice suddenly cuts through. “All four of you, stay here after class and clean up.”

“Aye-Aye” Jeno salutes with a grin, and Hyunjin shoves his arm for good measure. Laughing, they go over to their bags as the rest of the class around them clears out. “Worth it,” Renjun can hear Hyunjin laugh.

“You maybe wanna move,” Jaemin drawls, smiling up at him lazily and Renjun kind of wants to sock him in the face. He gets up and follows Hyunjin to where he presumes the cleaning supplies are and thinks he hears Jaemin laugh behind him, but doesn’t turn around. 

He’s not entirely sure why his face is burning and he doesn’t want Hyunjin to comment on it so when he catches up with her, he asks: “How is practice going?” 

She blinks at him. “Hamlet? We haven’t started practice yet, you would be there.”

“No,” He shakes his head as he picks up a bucket. “For Halloween.”

She chuckles. “Wouldn’t have taken you out of people for a gossip.” 

“You pick things up,” He shrugs. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I’m legally not allowed to do that,” She replies conspiratorally. 

“Is that what you’re doing every night outside?” Renjun asks again, before he can stop himself. He isn’t quite sure why he should stop himself.

Something imperceptible in Hyunjin’s smile freezes and he’s still not sure if he should have stopped himself. The next second, she is smiling again, nothing frozen, all warm. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

She turns around to the shelving unit. Renjun catches sight of something dark and smudgy just under the strap of her tank top. “Woah, Jeno got you good, huh?” He asks. 

Hyunjin meets his eyes, a little confused, before reaching back and touching the bruise as if she could feel its outline. After a few seconds she huffs a laugh. 

“You should see the other guy.”

When they leave the storage closet, Renjun can see that the bruise is yellow and green around the edges, slowly healing. Renjun doesn’t think that Jeno ten minutes ago had been the other guy. 

* * *

**Act II, Scene III**

_ RENJUN and JAEMIN’s room, a Friday night, just before Halloween. RENJUN lays awake. There are voices in the hallway. _

_JAEMIN:_ And you’re sure this is it?

_HEEJIN:_ I’m sure. 

_JENO:_ We’ve been doing this for roughly a year, it’d be bad if it wasn’t it. 

_HEEJIN:_ It is. 

_DONGHYUCK:_ What would we even do if we fucked up?

_HYUNJIN:_ Go to jail, probably. 

_HEEJIN:_ No one is going anywhere. This is it. Now get some sleep.

_ Steps on the stairs to the attic. RENJUN hurriedly turns his back to the door before it opens. JAEMIN comes in, stands in the middle of the room for a moment and watches the too even up and down or RENJUN’s shoulders. He sighs. Lights out. _

_End Scene._

* * *

Halloween falls on a Monday night. Renjun thinks it’s the worst possible timing for something that the entire campus seems to hold dear to their heart as a most important holiday. He wakes up to an empty house for once. 

On the kitchen counter, there’s a little note. _See you later!_ In Donghyuck’s chicken scratch, next to it a very rudimentary pumpkin.

None of his housemates are in any of their classes. No one seems pertubed. Doyoung calls their names for attendance, is met with silence, still checks them off on his list. Renjun accidentally meets Yiren’s eyes when she turns back to him and throws him a meaningful glance. 

He goes home to the house still empty, Donghyuck’s note still unmoved on the counter. He cleans his and Jaemin’s room. He cleans the bathroom mirror. He sorts the pantry. Heejin had a peculiar obsession with different paprika blends. They’re ordered alphabetically now. 

There would be a Halloween feast in the assembly hall tonight, and Renjun assumes it’s when the infamous performance would take place and where he would see all of them at the latest but just as he thinks it he is struck by a very simple fact that would have seemed incredulous to him a few weeks before. He feels lonely. He hadn’t noticed the absence of the feeling, but now it was very obviously carving its way back into his chest. 

He feels it as he sits down in the living room to do some reading and Heejin isn’t there sharing his can of tea. He feels it as he puts his lunch leftovers into the fridge instead of offering them to Hyunjin. He feels it as he realises it had started raining outside and Donghyuck isn’t squeezing next to him on the little seat by the windowsill, watching the drops against the glass as Jeno sits on the ground a few feet away and sorts through the dusty records to choose one that _fit the mood_. 

He realises that he misses them. 

He follows a raindrop down the window and remembers stage-sparring with Jaemin. He remembers his smile, remembers the feeling of his fingers on Jaemin’s skin, the blood rushing below them. He remembers Jaemin flicking some of the dirty mop-water at his arm. It was disgusting, and he’d hit him with a broom for it. Jaemin had laughed. 

Renjun gets up from the windowsill and climbs the stairs to their room to get dressed for dinner. 

Once he’s done he realises three things: The rain is still beating against the roof above his head. He didn’t bring a windbreaker. There’s a book on Jaemin’s desk that decidedly doesn’t look like a textbook. 

He pushes the first two worries to the back of his mind as he takes a step towards the desk. It looks old, worn out. The greying of the cover blends in with that of the old wooden desk, explaining why he hadn’t noticed it before. In decaying, maybe golden print it says _Minhyung Lee_ on the front. A diary.

The name rings a bell. Minhyung Lee, middle child living on the Lee estate. He was the one to call a doctor to the house after discovering Haeun in a critical state, but she had already been dead when help arrived. At least that’s what the overly dramatic website Renjun had consulted on the train ride to SM claimed. In any case, it probably has something to do with the performance tonight. 

He grabs the windbreaker hanging over the back of Jaemin’s chair. It’s bright pink and orange, but he’d rather get a slight headache than hypothermia. 

It smells slightly of the grapefruit bodywash Jaemin uses. Renjun huffs a sigh, pulls the zipper closed and hurries into the cold. He isn’t entirely soaked by the time he reaches the hall and he counts it as a win as he ruffles a hand through his slightly damp hair before entering the heavy wooden doors. A brass placard to his left proclaims the building as being dedicated to the Lee family’s eldest son Taemin. He wonders if the family ever thought about having the placard taken down after their son abandoned the family for unknown reasons. 

That website had a lot to say about that. 

Renjun pushes the door open and searches the rows for his housemates. His friends, a voice mocks in his head and he just pulls the sleeves of Jaemin’s windbreaker over his knuckles. He can’t see them, and even more importantly they don’t seem to see him despite the way he is glowing neon. Surely they would call out to him. Call him to sit with them. Maybe they’re just late. Maybe they’ll just get here for the performance. 

He squeezes in next to Yiren. It’s awkward, her eyeing his windbreaker and making an amused comment about it, as if he hadn’t abandoned their tentative friendship for a group of people she herself had classified as misfits. “You seem to fit right in,” She’d said. Maybe he hadn’t abandoned anything. 

It’s not until halfway through dinner that he gets a glimpse of his housemates. The heavyset door slams open. The rain outside had progressed into a downright theatrical thunderstorm, and it’s only fitting that a lightning lights up Heejin’s silhouette from behind as she takes on step inside. 

She looks distraught, her old-timey corset and skirts a mess and soaked. Before Renjun can take anything more in, Heejin screams. 

* * *

**Act II, Scene V**

_ (HEEJIN as Haeun Lee. JENO as Minhyung Lee, her brother. DONGHYUCK as Jinki Lee, their father. HYUNJIN as Soongyu Lee, his wife. JAEMIN as a stable boy) _

_ Enter Haeun. She runs through the door of the assembly hall, distressed. _

_HEEJIN:_ Help! Please, help me!

_ Enter Jinki. He runs after her and catches her around her waist. _

_DONGHYUCK:_ It’s all going to be over soon, starlight. 

_ Haeun struggles against him. _

_ Enter Soongyu. She is holding a glass beaker with dark liquid in it. _

_HYUNJIN:_ Drink this. Everything is going to be alright. 

_HEEJIN:_ Leave me be! _( She screams and struggles when her mother comes closer with the beaker)_

_ Haeun suddenly gasps and reaches a desperate hand towards a corner of the hall. _

_HEEJIN:_ Help me! Help me, I don’t know what they’re doing to me!

_ Enter Minhyung. He steps out behind a column and watches as their parents force the liquid down his sister’s throat. _

_HEEJIN, quietly:_ Help me, please…

_JENO, whispering:_ I’m sorry.

_ He hurries back behind the column and towards the door. Exit.  _

_ Haeun gets weaker quickly. She stops struggling against her father. He picks her up and carries her to the center of the room where Soongyu is waiting. Candles are lit up in a circle. Jinki sets Haeun down in between them. _

_DONGHYUCK_ : She is just perfect. _(He strokes a hand lovingly over Haeun’s head)_

_HYUNJIN:_ Our little star. She is going to be eternal. 

_DONGHYUCK, getting up:_ We should get started. Midnight nears. 

_ They walk to opposite ends of the circle of candles. Both of them reach into their pockets and pull out long ornamented daggers. They hold them out in front of them. They start talking in latin, in chorus. A ritual is being performed. While reciting they slowly step into opposite directions, rounding the circle of candles a´but always staying opposite to each other. When they have reached the position of the other they stop and step towards Haeun’s unconscious body in the center. _

_DONGHYUCK:_ Nostram stella. 

_HYUNJIN:_ Nostro lumine. 

_BOTH:_ In aeternum.

_ They bring their daggers down repeatedly. It is bloody. They are calm. After a while they step back. Haeun lies in a sea of red. _

_DONGHYUCK:_ She is just perfect. 

_ He puts an arm around Soongyu’s shoulder. Their hands are stained with blood. They smile and step away. Exit. _

Enter Minhyung with a stable boy. 

_JENO:_ It is very quiet now. Earlier she was screaming, it was petrifying. I hope you never hear someone scream like this. 

_JAEMIN:_ Where is she now?

_JENO:_ It is quiet. Perhaps they left. 

_JAEMIN:_ Master, your parents…

_JENO:_ They were out of their minds. I have never seen those eyes on my mother. 

_JAEMIN:_ And you say they have gone…?

_JENO:_ They must have. It is terribly quiet now. _(He pauses.)_ I am sorry for dragging you out at such a gruesome hour. 

_ The stable boys eyes catch on Haeun on the ground. He points. _

_JAEMIN:_ Very gruesome indeed. Master…!

_ The end of the scene happens in near complete silence. Minhyung walks to his sister’s body as if in trance. The stable boy follows a few steps behind. Slowly, Minhyung sinks to his knees and cradles Haeun to his chest. Everything is red. _

_JENO, whispering:_ I’m sorry.

_ Lights down.End Scene. _

* * *

Renjun is not quite sure what happens for the rest of dinner. He is fairly certain he pokes around in his food some more, listens to Yiren and her friends discussing the performance and some inconsequential speech from a teacher. He thinks he excuses himself early when he realises that none of his housemates are going to rejoin the feast and he thinks he makes the way back to Haeun manor quicker than usual. He is a little breathless when he pushes open the door, and his hair is wet from where the wind blew Jaemin’s hood back and he didn’t have the mind to pull it back up. 

The fireplace is lit, the whole common room tinged a warm orange. It makes the stains on their hands look poetic. 

They’re all still in costume. Not even Heejin had bothered to change or get cleaned up, and maybe in another moment, Renjun would have worried about her ruining the sofa, but he can’t really focus on anything. There is so much blood. Everything is warm orange and tranquil. The record player is on, playing something acoustic. The air smells heavy, faintly sweet. The only movement Renjun takes in is that of Donghyuck’s hand slowly falling away from his lips, followed by a billowy cloud of smoke. 

“Haeun Lee died from tuberculosis,” Is what he says. He is nearly surprised that his voice cuts through the thickness of the air so easily. “Or— Or pneumonia. Something that people die from.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and places the joint right between Jeno’s lips before leaning so he can look at Renjun directly, eyes a little dazed but amused. “Last I checked, people also die from ritual murder.” 

Jeno huffs a laugh through his nose, it comes out as silent smoke. 

“Two years ago,” Heejin starts. “They had talking animals in their performance.” Her voice is colder than Renjun is used to. It stands out in the warmth radiating from the fire. There is so much blood all over her chest. 

Donghyuck nods with a grin. “They put people in glorified fursuits, it was amazing.” 

“Artistic license.” Hyunjin contributes. Her voice sounds slow and a little raspy. She flops over so she’s laying halfway across Jeno and plucks the joint from his lips to take a drag herself. Jeno blows smoke right into her face. 

“You have Minhyung’s diary,” Renjun says quietly. 

He sees Heejin’s eyes snap to Jaemin, as if in alarm. He just looks back with a lazy smile. Renjun would think it’s from the weed, but he knows better: It’s how Jaemin looks at him most of the time. 

“Renjun,” He says, instead of acknowledging Heejin’s silent accusation. He pats the free space on the loveseat next to him. 

As Renjun sinks into the cushions, Jaemin suddenly has the joint in his hand even though he doesn’t think either Jaemin or Hyunjin moved. Maybe it’s a second one and Jaemin had it all this time. Maybe time and space just don’t work like that in the common room. 

Jaemin takes a long drag. He breathes out slowly and says: “I think it’s time.” 

Again, Heejin looks alarmed. Renjun is surprised by the sharpness in her eyes. “We didn’t agree on this,” She hisses. 

“He knows, anyways,” Hyunjin drawls. She is still laying on top of Jeno, he and Donghyuck have started braiding a few strands of her hair. Maybe they’re just tying it into knots, Renjun can’t quite tell from where he sits. He also thinks some strands reflect blood-red in the light of the fireplace. 

“He does?” Donghyuck mumbles. He doesn’t sound very surprised. 

“Who told him?” Heejin demands. 

“Probably just figured it out,” Jeno says lowly. His syllables don’t sound quite finished as they come out of his mouth. “‘S smart.”

“You guys are just not as good at sneaking around as you think you are.”

It kind of feels like giving up cover, admitting what he knows. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Even if he did, he probably wouldn’t understand, and yet, he is stepping out into the open, the unknown. But it doesn’t feel dangerous, as he looks around. 

They don’t look like predators. He didn’t make himself vulnerable to a pack of wolves, a murder of crows. They’re just a group of teenagers, friends, sleepy and high and tangled in each other, covered in blood. People get open, vulnerable at sleepovers, right? They tell each other secrets. 

“So we might as well tell him,” Jaemin throws in. Renjun knows it’s mainly for Heejin. Hyunjin looks like she’s falling asleep, Jeno and Donghyuck are very focused on the impossible knots in her hair. 

“Tell me what?” Renjun prompts. 

Heejin seems to deflate against the armchair she’s sitting in. She sighs. “If anything goes wrong,” She says, with a finger extended in Jaemin’s direction. “It’s going to be on you.” 

“Don’t wanna go to jail.” Jeno says meekly from the sofa. 

“I know, buddy,” Jaemin replies easily. “You won’t.” He turns to face Renjun on the loveseat and holds his joint up between their faces. “It’s time you learn what we’re all here for.” He smiles. 

His teeth glint sharp and out in the open. He is the only one of them not covered in blood, but Renjun can see a speck of it smeared across his cheek from this close, and it seems to glow brighter crimson that all the rest of them combined. He should be scared of being eaten alive, he thinks. 

He takes the joint from Jaemin and leans back into the cushions.

* * *

**Act II, Scene VII**

_ The stage is dark. One can just barely make out the backdrop of the school building in the background. A single spotlight points to center stage. Jaemin steps into the light. He is in uncomfortable looking formal clothes. _

_MR. NA, offstage:_ Acting… Theatre… You could do everything, but you choose to spend my money on this. If your mother could see you now… 

_JAEMIN:_ Mom wanted me to be happy.

_MR. NA, laughing:_ Your mother didn’t know what happiness was. 

_JAEMIN:_ Maybe if you let her find out, she’d still be here.

_ A long, drawn out silence. _

_MR. NA, cold:_ Go to your little acting school, then. Get out of my sight.

_ JAEMIN steps out of the spotlight. After a short moment, DONGHYUCK takes his place. _

_DONGHYUCK:_ I’m not going. 

_MR. LEE, offstage:_ To college? 

_DONGHYUCK:_ Not to this one. 

_MRS. LEE, laughing offstage:_ Where else would you go? Somewhere where your grades actually matter? Don’t be ridiculous, there is only so much bribing your father and I can do.

_DONGHYUCK:_ There is other art schools. 

_MR. LEE:_ Like the one your little friend is going to?

_MRS. LEE, sneering:_ He’s not a _friend_.

_DONGHYUCK:_ Yangyang has nothing to do with this. 

_MR. LEE:_ You are not going to run off to the city to live out your perversions with him. 

_MRS. LEE:_ Stop going against our wishes, Donghyuck. You’re already doing enough to hurt us. 

_MR. LEE:_ You are going to SM, and you are not to contact _Yangyang_. 

_ DONGHYUCK steps back. HYUNJIN takes his place.He is in a neat private high school uniform. _

_MR. KIM, offstage:_ Where have you been?

_HYUNJIN:_ Out with friends.

_MRS. KIM, offstage:_ You’ve been gone since Thursday. 

_HYUNJIN:_ I’ve actually been gone since Tuesday, thanks for noticing. 

_MRS. KIM:_ We don’t know what to do with you. 

_HYUNJIN:_ You could always put me back into that highclass correctional facility. Maybe they’ll actually electrocute me this time. Lobotomisation sounds super exciting.

_MR. KIM:_ Don’t talk like that. We’re trying to help you.

_MRS. KIM:_ Your school called. 

_MR. KIM:_ They found drugs in your locker. You don’t hand in homework. You don’t show up to class. 

_HYUNJIN, sarcastic:_ Oh no! Am I going to get kicked out?

_MRS. KIM:_ Your father and I took care of it. What are we going to do with you. 

_HYUNJIN:_ You always knew what you’re going to do with me. You’re gonna bribe my way to highschool graduation. You’re gonna bribe my way into that preppy art school you both went to. You’re gonna bribe my way to a degree. Then you’re gonna marry me off to some rich fuck so he can bribe my way through life while he actually hates me, so you don’t have to play that part anymore. 

_MR. KIM:_ Do we give you too many freedoms?

_MRS. KIM:_ We do love you, Hyunjin, you just make it so hard on us. 

_MR. KIM:_ We’re not asking much from you. Can’t you do this one thing for us?

_MRS. KIM:_ We do so much for you. 

_MR. KIM:_ Don’t you care about how people look at this family?

_ They slowly start talking over each other till their statements are incomprehensive. They fade out. HYUNJIN stays center stage. She throws up both middle fingers, then steps back. JENO takes her place. _

_MRS. LEE, offstage:_ His coach called today.

_MR. LEE, offstage:_ _( He scoffs.)_ What did he want?

_MRS. LEE:_ He got scouted. Some American school, focussed on sports. Very hard to get in. 

_MR. LEE:_ Ridiculous. 

_MRS. LEE:_ He says he is very talented. 

_MR. LEE:_ What good is that if it’s the only talent he has. _(He scoffs again.)_ This is an embarrassment. 

_MRS. LEE:_ His coach said his future there would be very promising. 

_MR. LEE:_ He is going to SM. 

_MRS. LEE:_ But, his coach— 

_MR. LEE, harsh:_ His coach does not make the rules in this house, I do. (He sighs) I am the headmaster. What would the people say if my own son wasn’t talented enough for my school. I’ll put him into acting. He’ll manage. I’ll keep an eye on him. He’s enough of a disappointment as is. 

_ A short pause. _

_MRS. LEE:_ Oh, Jeno, honey, when did you get here?

_ JENO stays silent for a moment. It is clear that his next words are a lie. _

_JENO:_ I just got home. 

_ He steps back. HEEJIN takes his place. She is wearing a shirt with the SM logo. It is ripped over her torso. _

_MRS. JEON, offstage:_ I don’t understand. You love this school. 

_HEEJIN:_ I want to transfer. 

_MRS. JEON:_ But where to?

_HEEJIN:_ Anywhere. 

_MRS. JEON:_ But why?

_HEEJIN:_ I told you. 

_MRS. JEON:_ Well, that can hardly be it. 

_HEEJIN:_ He offered to help me after class. 

_MRS. JEON:_ At a place as proper as SM. 

_HEEJIN:_ He’s older. He’s nice. He took the class already. He heard me talking about how I was struggling. 

_MRS. JEON:_ The kids there know to behave.

_HEEJIN:_ He asked me to meet him in one of the studyrooms in the library. We never studied. 

_MRS. JEON:_ Surely, he was just being nice. 

_HEEJIN:_ He locked the door. He didn’t talk to me. I asked him what he was doing. He didn’t say anything. He crowded me against the wall. I couldn’t move. 

_MRS. JEON:_ Sometimes boys get a little rough, when they like you. You’re a beautiful young woman, Heejin. 

_HEEJIN:_ He ripped my shirt. He had a hand over my mouth. I couldn’t scream. I could barely breathe. His hands were everywhere. 

_MRS. JEON: (She chuckles)_ In a library… Kids these days! But honey, things like that are what makes college! I also got up to some things when I was your age. 

_HEEJIN:_ I think I passed out at some point. I was crying. He didn’t stop. He left me there. Hyunjin had to come and get me hours later. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t stop crying. Everything hurt. 

_MRS. JEON:_ Your roommate… I heard some things about her. But surely they aren’t true. She seems like such a sweet girl. Say, do you maybe want to invite her over in the Summer? Wouldn’t that be fun? And then you can go back to school together in the fall. 

_HEEJIN:_ He raped me. 

_ It is quiet for a long moment. _

_MRS. JEON:_ You talked to the headmaster?

_MR. LEE, offstage:_ Miss Jeon, I’m sure you understand the implications of an accusation like that. 

_HEEJIN:_ He raped me. 

_MR. LEE:_ I’m sure you understand how that would influence a young man such as himself. He is in his senior year now. You are only a freshman, but even you can understand how this could ruin his whole life, if it came out. 

_HEEJIN:_ He raped me. 

_MR. LEE:_ I’m not saying you are lying, of course. I’m just asking you to be conscious of the consequences this could have on the school’s reputation, your family. His parents are huge philantrophists, love the arts. They are donating for the renovation of the auditorium for his graduation. Surely you must be aware of the state the building is in, Miss Jeon. You are a smart young woman. Surely you know what the best for everyone here is. 

_MRS. JEON:_ Well, Honey, how about I make us a nice cup of tea and you tell me about your semester! Surely you must be excited for Sophomore year. I was when I was your age! And don’t forget to call that little friend of yours, I can’t wait to meet her. She sounds lovely. You must be so happy at your school.

_ MRS. JEON’s voice slowly fades out. HEEJIN stands, staring into the nothingness of the audience for a long moment. The spotlight goes off. The stage is completely dark. End scene. _

* * *

There is a long silence after Heejin stops speaking, one that seems inescapable to Renjun until it isn’t. 

At some point Donghyuck had reached over to take Heejin’s hand. Renjun’s eyes are still fixed on the way his thumb is running over Heejin’s when Donghyuck asks: “So, what did your parents ever do to you to end up here, new kid?” 

Renjun pulls his shoulders up in a shrug. Uncertainty in slow-motion. “They just want me to be ordinary,” Is what he settles on. It sounds ridiculous. He feels like he needs to apologize to Heejin. She is still covered in blood, soaked red.

“Well, there you have it,” Heejin says. Renjun’s eyes snap up from her and Donghyuck’s interlaced fingers to her face. It’s unreadable, when she tacks on: “We accept all parental and other mistreatment here at Haeun manor.”

“And only minimal talking about it,” Jaemin adds. Renjun isn’t quite sure how he makes the following clap sarcastic. “We’re roommates, not each others’ therapists. Who’s feeling like snacks?” 

Renjun wants to protest, wants to call insensitivity. But then he looks back at the others and sees how Heejin squeezes Donghyuck’s hand in silent thanks before letting go, sees how Hyunjin pushes against Jeno’s shoulder with an impatient complaint about being uncomfortable, sees Donghyuck nearly fall off the sofa in the inebriated rearrangement of limbs that follows and sees how Heejin doesn’t even try to hide her gloating giggles in response. 

Not for the first time since he arrived, Renjun thinks he is watching something magical. A well oiled machine not so much as a well used one, used to the movements and processes of each part. A family not so much as the same soul split up over different bodies. Just this time, he is not standing on the outside looking in. There is no windowpane separating him from the warmth of the fireplace while he is left to burn matches, instead it seems to come from within him as Hyunjin, Jeno and Donghyuck settle in another impossible knot on the sofa, Heejin wraps a crocheted blanket around her and Jaemin settles back next to Renjun, closer than he’s been before. Or maybe just warmer. 

It’s lulling, distracting. Donghyuck had to nudge Jeno and Hyunjin back awake three times by the time Renjun remembers. 

“But,” He starts, interrupting a long bout of comfortable, sleepy silence. “What does any of that have to do with Minhyung and Haeun Lee? And the woods?”

Hyunjin lifts her head sleepily from Donghyuck’s stomach. 

“Told’ya he’s smart,” Jeno mumbles, quietly, somewhere into Hyunjin’s hair. 

Heejin says nothing. 

When Renjun meets Jaemin’s eyes, they are weirdly bright, reflecting the fire in a way that once again reminds Renjun of bared canines. The crimson smudge on his cheek still shines. 

When he answers, his voice is full of revery: “It has everything to do with it, Renjun.”

* * *

**Act II, Scene IX**

_ The backdrop of a wood. The stage is empty for a long moment. A spotlight. MINHYUNG LEE steps to center stage. He is in the same costume that JENO wore for the Halloween performance. It shows the same bloodstains. _

_MINHYUNG_ : America, Year One, March.

Last week, Mina said that I should be writing things down. She says I bottle up, thinks it will drive me insane one day. She bought me this book and when I told her I could not fathom to find the words, she asked me to try, at least. Her eyes were full of care. It feels different to be looked at like that again. Only Taemin and Haeun used to. It has been a long time. 

The night my sister died was mild. Summer was just turning into autumn, the leaves were not yet ready to go. No wind had come to force them yet, no rain had made them heavy and weary of persisting. Haeun was only 17. They only just finished the building in her honour. It is lovely, and she has never seen it. 

The moon hung deep in the sky, that night, soaked red as if it had been drunk on the events to come already. It was very late. Only a few more hours, and the sun would start peaking over the horizon again, painting a clear slate that Haeun would never see… 

To this day, I cannot say what happened. My mother’s eyes were pale and hard like I have never seen them. My father was as if in mad rage yet both of them spoke to her so softly, so like they used to speak to us when we were children. Haeun often told me she missed the way they used to be with us. It is cruel to think that she got it back in exchange for her life, in that moment. 

I cannot make sense of it. No matter how much Mina begs, I cannot begin to make sense of what happened, cannot dream to write it down. All I know is that my sister is dead, and my parents have murdered her. _(He stops talking for a long moment.)_

America, Year One, June.

When I came to America, people gave me the advice to take on a new name, that it would make things easier for me. Until today, it feels like nobody here knows me. I wonder if anybody ever can. They all know Mark, but nobody, not Mina, not anyone, knows where he comes from, what he ran from… It takes me a little to react everytime someone calls me. It reminds me of when we were children, and Taemin would come up with all sorts of ridiculous names for me and Haeun. 

I wonder where he is now. Tonight, again, I wonder why he left. Did he know? _(Another pause.)_

America, Year One, August.

I do not seem to be able to sit still. Mina’s mother noticed the other day over tea, and she chuckled at me. She is chalking it up to the wedding next month. She could not be farther from the truth. 

I blame this cursed diary. I keep thinking about that night. What happened? 

I cannot stop thinking about what Taemin knew, too. I need to find him. I need to go to the library. _(A pause.)_

America, Year Two, February. 

In addition to the books I found over the last two months, I have found the first signs of someone who might know about them. A retired monk. I’m not sure you can stray further from God than to retire from him, yet this man seems like my only hope. I can find no sign of Taemin. 

Before meeting with this man, I have started to translate the texts I have found. It is nearly eerie, how much of my childhood I can find in them. They describe the places I grew up in, yet they were written centuries before they were built. All of them seem like an incantation, I just can not say for what. Hopefully, John can help. For now, I keep all this a secret only alive in my memories and this book. _(A pause.)_

America, Year Two, June.

Finally, a breakthrough! For months now, John and I have sat over the same texts. I have told him everything I know, everything I saw. It was strange, to be so open about that night with someone. I think the only one who knows as much would be the people present. 

John has found a lead, at last. We have found a text describing a place other than my home grounds, and he has identified it as an estate not far from here. The owner is a very wealthy man and his reply to our letters was rather cryptic, yet I hope for the best. We are close to answers. _(A pause.)_

America, Year Two, July.

Still now word from John. Something must have happened to him on his visit to the estate. In my two years in America, he has been my closest friend. I cannot help but link his disappearance to our findings, and he has left me a plethora of answers and knowledge. I have hope that he is still alive out there. There won’t be another blood moon for a few weeks, and according to our studies, a death will be no good to them without one. 

Mina is worried. She tries to be understanding, but I can see it in her eyes. On some days, I am too. We were so close to understanding the ritual. I just need John back. _(A pause. The light starts flickering slightly.)_

America, Year Two, August.

I was too late. John is dead. There was too much blood. No one saw me. I was too late. _(The flickering intensifies.)_

America, Year Two, September.

I am so close. The moon is guiding me. 

America, Year Two, December. 

They murdered her. Murdered. They murdered her. She asked me to help, they murdered her. Why? Why?! _(Still, the lights flicker faster.)_

America, Year Three, January. 

Mina left. Everyone is leaving. I see Haeun everywhere. I see Taemin everywhere, John. They left. But why? What for? _What for?_

America, Year Three, April.

_(The flickering of the light suddenly stops. MINHYUNG looks on into the audience,insane desperation on his face)_

A wish. Fortune. Luck. They killed because they were afraid. 

_ (MINHYUNG crumples to the ground. The light fades out. End scene.) _

* * *

“A wish, fortune, luck.” Jaemin recites from memory, as he points the words out on the page in front of Renjun. “That’s why Lee Haeun died, and it’s what we want.”

“Is it?” Renjun asks, mostly because he is too caught up in the diary to come up with more. The last few entries are frantic, barely legible, the ink blotted and scratched everywhere around fragments of sentences and thoughts. Faintly, Renjun remembers the beginning weeks of term. Doyoung’s flowy script spells _Madness_ across a blackboard in his mind. 

“Of course it is,” Jaemin confirms. 

Heejin takes over. “All that our lives, our parents and this place have ever done for us is bring us to each other. Now we want out. But we can’t do that on our own. We know that, and they know it as well. We need the wish.” 

“Wish for what?” 

Donghyuck snorts. “Freedom,” He says, adorned with the best jazz hands he can manage, with Jeno half asleep on his left arm. 

Renjun nods, slowly. His fingers touch over Minhyung’s words again. _They killed her because they were afraid._

“This must sound ridiculous to you,” Heejin decides. Her laugh is the bitterest noise Renjun has ever heard. “Rich kids complaining about their rich families. Heard that story before.” 

“Not exactly. I understand what it means to want a life of one’s own.” He closes the book softly. “I believe you when you say this is the only way.” 

Jaemin chuckles softly next to him. “We don’t know if it’s the only way.” He shifts in his seat, leans forward and gestures around the room. “We just know that it’s our way.” 

Before Renjun can ask, Heejin starts explaining. “The next blood moon, is on November 28th.” 

“That’s homecoming,” Renjun provides. He remembers the date because it is pencilled in in bright red on the calendar up in their kitchen. 

Heejin points a confirming finger at him. “And there will be some very important guests at the homecoming party.” 

“SM does homecoming parties?” 

“Not usually,” Donghyuck chuckles. 

“Jeno’s father is very easily swayed on some things,” Hyunjin mumbles cryptically. 

“I threatened to tell Mom that he’s fucking the school’s accountant,” Jeno says, his eyes closed and lips in a soft, sleepy sort of smile. 

Renjun nods in understanding. “So who will be in attendance?” 

“Alumnis, mainly,” Heejin says, matter of factly. “Former students, teachers. Benefactors.” 

She didn’t put any infliction on the last word, yet Renjun nods again. “Like the family who paid for the renovation of the auditorium.” 

“All of them RSVPed,” Donghyuck smiles. The fireplace hisses as a log burns through and falls. The fire is nearly out. 

Renjun nods again. “I see.”

“You’re taking this pretty well,” Heejin assesses. 

“Told you it would be fine,” Jaemin quips. 

“Maybe Jaem’s gut _isn’t_ always wrong,” Hyunjin tries to say, but has to suppress a violent yawn halfway through. She hums and nuzzles closer to Jeno’s neck. 

“It’s late,” Renjun realises. “We should probably go to sleep. There’s still classes tomorrow.” It seems like something ridiculous to say. Like someone missed a line and there was no suffleuse to help.

“Smart,” Donghyuck mumbles, but makes no move to get up. Jeno seems to have already dozed off. 

Heejin is already putting out the fire, Jaemin is piling snack wrappers into a small bunch on the table. Renjun throws a vague hand to the tangle of limbs on the sofa. “Do they need help?” 

Heejin waves him off. “Just leave them there, happens all the time.” 

And then she is gone, and Jaemin looks back at Renjun from the doorway. “Coming?” 

It feels weirdly sobering, to climb the stairs into their dark room after leaving the orange warmth of the common room. Still, Renjun can’t find it in him to be surprised at anything he has learned tonight. In some twisted way, it makes sense, as if the whole story had left a space for him to settle in. He doesn’t think he could fight his way out of its grasp now if he wanted to. 

“You vouched for me, huh?” He asks, when he has changed and is sitting on the edge of his matress. 

Jaemin has just reached for the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t drop his hand, but doesn’t answer either, instead just holds Renjun’s gaze. It feels like a challenge. Renjun doesn’t look away. Jaemin pulls the shirt over his head and throws it somewhere on the ground. 

“I did,” is all he says. 

“Why?” Renjun immediately shoots back. He doesn’t drop Jaemin’s gaze, even if some part in him desperately begs to do so. 

Jaemin smiles lazy. “You belong here, Renjun.” Then he turns around and lays down on his bed. 

Renjun scoffs. Never once has he felt like he belonged in this place. He lays down and turns on his back, mirroring Jaemin’s position. 

“Sweet dreams,” Jaemin mumbles, like he has most nights since they started actually speaking with each other. 

Renjun’s cheeks feel warm, in a comfortable way. The air around him smells familiar. The noises of the house sound it too. 

_Seems like you fit right in._

_ You belong here, Renjun. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have realised that this is also the second installment of "kaya writes nct dream 00z and 2jin and ignores most of the rest of both groups." i find people i can write and then i CLING.
> 
> anyways i hope everyone's staying safe and happy and taking care of themselves!!
> 
> you can find me on twt @aangult and on cc @fullstar!


	3. ACT III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i hate the secret history but some parts of this were heavily inspired by it. curse miss tartt and her grip on dark academia. theres murder in this chapter... or is there? idk u tell me
> 
> i really enjoyed writing this fic and its one of the quieckest ones i ever finished so a big hurray for that!!
> 
> enjoy!!

Renjun isn’t sure what a college experience means to him. He’s not sure if he needs it, and he’s not sure if he is having a proper one. He feels like it doesn’t make the list, to prepare for the ritual murder of a rapist. 

He also thinks that drowning in text-work, pulling an all-nighter right before auditions and getting high after they are over while listening to an ancient Madonna record counts, though. 

He makes Claudius, Hyunjin Gertrude and Jaemin Horatio. Donghyuck gets Hamlet and spends the entire day answering questions with “To be, or not to be,” Just to be annoying, until Doyoung considers cutting the line from their production. He gives Heejin and Jeno Ophelia and Laertes, with a smile and little nod to their performance as siblings on Halloween. 

Currently, Renjun mourns the free time he had before play prep and murder rituals entered his life, as he and Hyunjin occupy the dinner table with countless note sheets, their scripts and too many text markers, doing scene work. He can faintly hear the rain beating down against the window, and he longs for his space on the windowsill in the common room and a cup of tea. But his tea ran out two days ago, he and Hyunjin are right in the middle of a scene, and Donghyuck and Jeno are hogging the common room to practice the fight choreo Seulgi had given them a few days before in class. 

Hyunjijn’s head drops heavily against the tabletop. “I’m quitting school,” She announces. 

“You can do that after Homecoming,” Renjun says and absentmindedly pats her arm. She just sighs and grabs his hand, half out of reflex, half a plea. 

“Let’s take a break, please?” 

“I kinda just wanna get this done with.” 

“Curse you and your productivity,” She groans. “I wanna watch Hyuck and Jen beat each other up!”

Renjun chuckles, eyes still fixed on a particular tricky part of dialogue. “You’re into that?” 

Hyunjin doesn’t miss a beat. “Nah, I’m more into beating them up.” 

Renjun nods slowly, then finally puts the pen down. “A few weeks ago, in the gym,” He remembers. “That bruise on your shoulder. Where did it come from?” 

She thinks for a moment, before asking: “You remember the beaker, in the performance?” At his nod, she continues: “The ritual calls for a strong anesthesia, a specific one. Basically, a potion, but that makes it sound ridiculous. Like out of Harry Potter. And we’re talking more like, that stuff from Romeo and Juliet.” 

“Poison?” 

“It’s a very potent psychedelic drug. Too much of it could kill you, yes.” 

“And you just have that stuff laying around somewhere here, I assume?” Renjun looks towards the cabinets above the dishwasher with interest, but Hyunjin shakes her head. 

“Not here, but we have it. At least we were really sure we did, but we had to test it out.” 

That makes Renjun look back to her, the smile falling from his lips. “You took it?” 

“We all did. Going down together, or something.” 

“What happened?”

“Well…” She hesitates for a long moment. “We’re not sure. Not what was supposed to, we did something wrong. Something with the dosage, I think? You need to ask Heejin. All I know is that when we came to, my back was covered in very ugly bruises, Jeno’s arm in equally as ugly scratches and we had to look for Donghyuck because he ran off into the woods. Heejin had a headache for a solid week afterwards, and Jaemin didn’t really sleep. But none of us remember what exactly happened.”

Renjun takes a moment to think about it. “So you’re not sure if it works?”

“No, we are,” Hyunjin shakes her head. “Like I said, Heejin figured it out. I just don’t understand how. But it’s ready to go.”

Renjun takes another moment. It seems like a feat suddenly, to trust a bunch of teenagers with substances they don’t understand, when all of their lives are on the line. But what choice is there, for any of them?

“It kind of does sound like in Harry Potter,” He says, lightly. “You know, like with the Polyjuice— “ 

Hyunjin throws a pencil at him. “Nerd,” She chuckles. “I’m making us hot chocolate.” 

Later that day, when he and Hyunjin have officially given up on their scene, and Renjun has moved to the common room with a textbook, he has forgotten about his worries from earlier. 

The door opens and the couch dips next to him before Jeno’s head lands on his shoulder with a soft thump. “I’m tired,” Jeno announces. 

“You should probably go to sleep,” Renjun says unperturbed. Jeno’s hair is wet and dripping onto his sweater, but he smells faintly like vanilla so he decides not to complain.

“No, “ Jeno sighs. “I need to keep some semblance of a sleep cycle, otherwise I’ll just pass out when we go out tomorrow.” 

“We’re going out tomorrow?” This is news to Renjun. Or maybe he just missed it in between assignments and readings. 

Jeno nods and throws him a meaningful glance. “Yeah. _Out._ ”

“Oh,” Renjun hums in understanding. “ _Out._ ” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Heejin announces from her usual perch from the armchair. She looks up from her matching textbook copy. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen, Jen.” 

“I love you,” Jeno says seriously, before taking off. 

“You never went out with us,” Heejin notes. 

Renjun nods. “But I should be alright on sleep. You always woke me up when you left, it’s kind of ingrained in my routine now.” After a moment he adds: “But why do you not just do it here? Before I came here no one else ever did, right?” 

“How very lazy of you to think that way,” Heejin chuckles. “Location actually seems kind of important. They abandoned the building Haeun died in after it happened. The Lees were a pretty superstitious bunch, thought the place is haunted.” 

“Is it?” 

“Just haunted enough for us. And very conveniently forgotten by the entire school community and hidden in the man-made forest just outside our front door.”

Renjun chances a look through the window, but all he sees is his own reflection against the dark of an early night. “Just our luck, then.” 

“It really is… Everything about this seems to be.” Heejin says quietly. After a long moment, she asks, louder this time: “Do you believe in fate, Renjun?” 

_”You belong here.”_ A voice echoes in his head. 

“I arrived right for the juicy part,” The same voice laughs from the door, and Jaemin throws himself over the loveseat languidly. “You guys making wedding plans, without us?” 

Heejin scoffs. “I wouldn’t dare to even think about trying to put a ring on Na Jaemin. That’s for dragon tamers.”

A steaming mug appears in front of Renjun’s face. “What about you, Renjun?” Jeno asks, as he settles back next to him. “Any experience with dragons?”

“Can’t say I have any references,” Renjun gives back. His eyes flit to Jaemin as he takes a slow sip of coffee. 

“Well it’s never too late to branch out,” Jaemin grins at him. The fire reflects against his canines and Renjun hides a smile into his mug. 

They have moved on from weddings and dragons by the time Hyunjin and Donghyuck get back from the costume department, and they have moved to their own rooms before Renjun remembers Heejin’s question. 

“Jaemin,” He speaks into the darkness of their room without giving it a second thought. “Do you believe in fate?” 

Jaemin chuckles lowly. “Rethinking the wedding plans?” 

Renjun huffs. “Might be rethinking the dragons.” Then he stays silent. 

After a moment, Jaemin speaks again. “I don’t think we are here without reason.” 

He doesn’t specify who he means with ‘we’. It could be all of humanity in their pursuit of purpose. It could be all of them in this house right now, brought here by different wrong-doings and motivations. Or it could just be Renjun and Jaemin, laying awake, in the same room, breathing the same air, talking about fate. 

Renjun can feel his breathing slowly even out as he thinks. Just before he slips away, he faintly hears Jaemin say: “Sweet dreams.” 

* * *

**Act III, Scene II**

_ The stage is divided into two. RENJUN stands in the center of one half, MRS. HUANG in the other. _

_MRS. HUANG:_ It’s so hard to get you on the phone these days, honey. What is it you say you’re doing again?

_RENJUN:_ Hamlet. 

_MRS. HUANG:_ No, I mean, in school. 

_RENJUN:_ The performance is our final grade. 

_MRS. HUANG:_ Oh…, well, alright. No exams?

_RENJUN:_ Not as important as the play. I sent you the invite. Will you be there?

_MRS. HUANG:_ Me and your father have work, honey. _(She chuckles)_ You know, _real_ work. We will see you for summer break!

_RENJUN:_ Okay. 

_MRS. HUANG:_ Oh, just last week I talked to a lady who’s with the college here! She knew Sicheng, it was quite sweet. She said that if you take a few courses over the summer, you should have no problems catching up with their curriculum— 

_RENJUN:_ Why would I want that?

_MRS. HUANG:_ Oh, well, I thought— 

_RENJUN:_ I’m going back to SM for senior year. 

_ (It is silent for a moment.) _

_MRS. HUANG:_ Well, we will see how you feel in the summer, when you come back! 

_RENJUN:_ We’ll see about that. 

_MRS. HUANG:_ What, about coming back? Renju—

_RENJUN:_ Bye. 

_ The connection dies. End scene. _

* * *

The woods at night in the middle of November are fucking cold. 

Jaemin laughs at Renjun when he says as much, earning a harsh shush from Heejin. Jaemin reigns his amusement in to subdued giggles and Renjun thinks it is weird when he feels his heart beat in time with them, but he thinks it is weirder when his heart misses a beat completely as Jaemin takes his hand. 

He interlaces their fingers, pulls them into his pocket. In the faint light of their phone torches, Renjun sees him wink. “Works better than gloves anyways.” 

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at their destination. The building is still intact in the most rudimentary of ways: Windows are broken, the paint broken off in all but a few places and there is a fading graffiti across the entryway. But all the walls and the roof are still standing, the insides a little damp and smelling stale but keeping the biting wind out. 

Only a moment after they stepped foot over the threshold, Renjun hears the hiss of a match, and soon a handful of candles light up the center of the wide room they’re in. If he looks around and squints a little, he can pretend they’re in the common room, like they were earlier. A much colder version of the common room. Were someone had been murdered. 

From somewhere Donghyuck gets a stack of blankets and Jaemin pulls Renjun down to sit on one by their still intertwined hands. 

None of the others seem to care much about it, but Renjun’s ears still burn. “So, what are we doing tonight?” He asks into the room. 

“Your initiation,” Heejin gives back while she rummages through her backpack. She comes up with her hydroflask, right as Jeno asks: “We do initiations? What are we, a frat?” 

“More like a society,” Donghyuck hums. 

“Equally fishy, just more pretentious,” Is Hyunjin’s verdict. 

“We’re not doing initiations,” Heejin clears up. “I was joking.” 

She sets the bottle down in the center of the little circle they have built. 

“There’s a passage in the diary, right before John went missing,” She starts. 

“And our homeboy Markus lost the first of some very significant marbles,” Donghyuck throws in. 

“Don’t call him that. Anyways, the passage says that for the ritual to work, it is important that we are honed in to the site of it. The Lees had this place built and lived on the estate for decades. It’s basically as honed in as you can get.” 

“So how do we do that? There’s two weeks to go.” Renjun asks. 

“You can replicate it. Synthetically, if you will,” Heejin explains. She gestures to the bottle. “I know we tried this before and it didn’t go well—” 

“Do you want me to nearly kill myself in the woods again?” Donghyuck interrupts her, with no malice in his voice. 

“No. The dosage is diluted. If I’m right this shouldn’t kick in more than your weed does, Hyuck.” 

“If you’re right, “ Renjun echoes. 

“You weren’t here last time, Renjun. But you need to trust me that that night did something.” 

“Oh, it did something, alright,” Donghyuck mumbles under his breath. 

“It connected us. To this place and to each other. All of you felt it,” She addresses the last part to the others, sounding nearly accusatory. 

“It lingers,” Jeno allows. 

Heejin takes the bottle and lifts it to her lips. “I promise it’s safe,” She assures, before taking a swig. 

* * *

**Act III, Scene IV**

_ The woods at night. The lights are colourful, pulsing, yet low. THE PACK walks around stage as in trance, unfocused, until RENJUN and JAEMIN stop at center stage, looking at each other. _

_JAEMIN:_ What do you feel?

_RENJUN:_ I'm really high. 

_JAEMIN:_ _(laughs)_ Well do you feel it? Do you feel connected?

_RENJUN:_ The moon feels closer. Do you?

_JAEMIN:_ I always do. 

_RENJUN:_ You always feel connected to the others?

_JAEMIN:_ The others.The moon. You. Always. 

_RENJUN:_ How does it feel?

_ JAEMIN takes a step closer and lays a hand across RENJUN’s chest. _

_JAEMIN:_ It feels right. Like everything I could ever wish for. 

_ RENJUN lays his hand on JAEMIN’s chest in kind. _

_RENJUN:_ It does. I feel it.

_ The lights abruptly go down. When they go back up the scene has changed to the common room. THE PACK lies scattered around, tangled with and over each other, asleep. It is the morning of the next day. _

_DONGHYUCK, muffled:_ Everyone alive? 

_ JENO: (groans incomprehensibly) _

_DONGHYUCK:_ Gonna take that as a yes. Hyunjin? 

_HYUNJIN:_ ‘m okay. Is anyone hurt?

_JAEMIN:_ I can’t feel my legs. 

_HEEJIN:_ Well, they’re still there, and they’re very heavy. 

_JAEMIN:_ Nice. 

_DONGHYUCK:_ Renjun? You good, buddy?

_A drawn out silence._

_RENJUN, quietly:_ You guys are my family. 

_ A small joyful commotion as everyone flocks around him. The atmosphere is bright and warm. _

_ End scene. _

* * *

Homecoming comes quicker than Renjun thinks it should. The rest of the house doesn’t seem to think so, they are treading around restlessly, wired in a way Renjun isn’t used to. Paired with play prep picking up, he expects all of them to break each minute, but somehow it never happens. 

When Hyunjin forgets to go to sleep, Heejin makes a point of dragging her to their shared room and letting her sleep in the next day without making a fuss. When Jeno goes weirdly silent and refuses to engage in any kind of conversation, Donghyuck sits down with him and whispers to him as long as it takes for Jeno to reply. Jaemin tells Renjun that he can’t fall asleep most nights, no matter how tired he is, and Renjun stays awake with him, telling him stories of his sleepy hometown, or singing him a lullaby that he remembers from sleepovers at his grandparents’ house. They manage. 

Renjun looks into the mirror. It’s reflecting the last rays of the sinking sun. He tries to imagine looking into the mirror in his childhood room instead, and he doesn’t think it would show his reflection. If it did, he doesn’t think he wants to see it. 

“Red’s your colour,” Jaemin quips from the door. 

“Likewise,” Renjun gives back as he turns around. The vibrancy of their equally red shirts reminds him of that night in the woods. Everything had been vibrant, alive, pulsing with unsaid wishes. The trees around him,the moon above them, Jaemin in front of him, his hand on Jaemin’s chest. It reminds him of a speck of crimson on Jaemin’s cheek.

“Ready to go?” Jaemin asks. He doesn’t mean the party. He means the rest of their lives. 

They meet the others in the common room. The burgundy velvet of Heejin’s dress doesn’t catch the light as well as Donghyuck’s satin shirt, but still, she glows. Renjun’s brain overlays the image of her lounging in the armchair now with that of her laying on the ground of the assembly hall. Bleeding out. Deep red. He shudders. 

By the time they arrive at the quad, the sun has set. By the time they separate, he can make out singular stars if he focuses enough. He is trying to make out constellations when a hand against the small of his back makes him jump. 

“Only you would stargaze during the only real party we get on this campus,” Jaemin says into his ear over the music. 

“It’s more interesting than pretending to fit in with these people,” Renjun shrugs. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin says, with a lazy smirk. “You’re so much cooler than all these stuck up preps.” 

Renjun rolls his eyes, but fixes Jaemin with a smile right after. “You think so?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Jaemin nods seriously. “I also think you should dance with me.” 

That rips a laugh from Renjun. “Dance?” He repeats, incredulous. 

Again, Jaemin nods. “People aren’t drunk enough yet.” 

What he means is that Chuwon isn’t drunk enough yet and Hyunjin hasn’t been able to start and lure him into the woods yet. _(“I think this is my favourite part I’ve ever played. Like a siren, or a faerie.”)_

Jaemin’s hand is still on the small of his back. Renjun sighs. “Alright then, lead the way.” 

The music is terrible, and Renjun barely recognises any faces that whir past him, and he doesn’t care. Briefly, he thinks that bumping into strangers while dancing to shitty music with a boy that makes your heart skip a beat— that’s as ordinary as he can imagine this night to go. And briefly, he wants to get lost in it. 

He doesn’t want to think about their plans for the night. He doesn’t want to think about the future, or the past, he just wants to think about Jaemin’s smile and his hands on his hips as he spins them around. 

“How to you feel?” Jaemin asks over the music. 

“Normal,” Renjun replies. 

A small frown appears between Jaemin’s brows, and Renjun wants to smooth it out. 

“That’s not the desired effect,” Jaemin says. 

Renjun shakes his head. “It’s amazing,” He assures him. “I feel amazing.”

Jaemin looks at him for a long moment. “You are amazing,” He says, quiet, but it carries. 

Renjun isn’t quite sure what would happen if his life was normal. What does happen is that he grabs Jaemin’s face and kisses him, square on the lips. What happens is that they stop dancing for a while, just standing in a sea of people, tangled up in each other. What happens is that Renjun forgets about his future and his past and the sea of red they’re standing in. 

What happens is that after a small eternity, he can feel Jaemin’s phone vibrate against his hip, and they’re back in a crowd of people dressed in all shades of crimson and Jaemin looks at him for a long, dazed moment, before he says: “We need to go.” 

“Is it bad to say that I don’t want to?”

Jaemin smiles, and shakes his head, but pulls Renjun along with him anyways. 

Renjun mourns the moment as soon as it’s gone, and as they walk towards the line of trees he wishes for nothing more but to live in it forever. 

* * *

**Act III, Scene VI**

_ The abandoned hall in the woods. The surroundings are quiet as HYUNJIN and CHUWON make their way closer. _

_CHUWON:_ This is crazy, how do you know about this place?

_HYUNJIN:_ I wander around. 

_ They enter. They are candles lit in a circle at the center of the room. HEEJIN’s hydroflask sits in the center. _

_CHUWON:_ Is there someone here?

_HYUNJIN, walking over to the candles:_ What do you mean?

_CHUWON:_ This whole set-up is real creepy. Did you do that?

_HYUNJIN:_ We’re alone. _(She picks up the bottle.)_ Here, have some of this. 

_CHUWON:_ What is it?

_HYUNJIN:_ Something really strong. _(She smiles.)_

_ CHUWON takes the bottle and drinks. _

_CHUWON:_ Woah, this is insane. You want any?

_HYUNJIN_ : No, drink up, big boy. 

_CHUWON:_ I think I’m good, I can feel it hitting already. _(He pulls Hyunjin closer by the waist.)_ I think we should do something else now. 

_HYUNJIN, sweetly:_ I think you should drink the rest of that. 

_ Before CHUWON can say anything else, the door opens. Enter THE PACK. _

_CHUWON:_ What the fuck?!

_HYUNJIN:_ He didn’t drink all of it. 

_ She steps away from him. CHUWON stumbles and sinks to his knees. _

_DONGHYUCK:_ I think he’s good. 

_ CHUWON: (Slurs something indistinct) _

_ JAEMIN and JENO pull him to the center of the circle. HEEJIN steps in front of him. She leans down and looks at him for a long, silent moment. Then she straightens and picks up the two daggers from the side of the circle. She hands one to HYUNJIN as they stand on opposite ends of the circle. THE BOYS stand around it. HEEJIN starts to recite in latin. Suddenly, CHUWON looks up. _

_CHUWON, weakly to Heejin:_ Is this your way of revenge, princess? _(He chokes out a laugh. The girls ignore him.)_ Are you trying to scare me? 

_ He sits up. JENO wants to step in, but HEEJIN holds up a hand to stop him. CHUWON’s skin is sickly pale, his eyes are full on black. He speaks as if mad. _

_CHUWON:_ You can’t touch me. None of you can touch me. Nothing can touch me. What do you think you can do? You couldn’t do anything then, could you, Princess?

_DONGHYUCK, under his breath:_ Is that what the potion does?

_JENO, equally as quiet:_ I don’t like this.

_ Suddenly, CHUWON is standing right in front of HEEJIN. She is still holding the dagger as he smiles down at her. _

_CHUWON, whispering in a voice that doesn’t sound like his own:_ You’re powerless. What do you want to achieve?

_HEEJIN:_ You took a piece from me. Now you’re giving it back. 

_ CHUWON lifts a hand to HEEJIN’s face slowly. _

_CHUWON:_ Nothing could make you whole, princess. 

_ HEEJIN lashes out with the dagger. A flurry of movement. Everyone moves at once. CHUWON gets a hold of the dagger, his face is wild as he lets out an inhumane cry. He whirls around. The dagger hits true. A loud and piercing scream. _

Everything is red, _feels_ red. There is a loud scream, it’s drilling itself right through his skull. Renjun thinks it might be Heejin. 

He can’s see clearly. In the heat of it, some candles have fallen over and went out. _Heat._ There is hot burning pain. One candle caught onto something. Flames are slowly licking at something Renjun can’t quite make out. 

The edges of his sight are blurry. Everything is red and too loud. 

He thinks he is laying on the ground. Through a broken window he can look up, up over the crowns of trees. The moon hangs heavy and red above all of them, watching. It is crimson. Renjun thinks it will be hot to the touch. He wants to reach out his fingers. 

Where are the others? 

This is clearly their way out. They just need to get to the moon. It is guiding them. 

He feels like that first night they brought him here. Vibrant. Burning bright. He can feel all of them around him, he can feel the moon and he feels truly at home. Still, the pain turns life into coal within him. 

He thinks of the candlelight flickering over Heejin’s deep red dress. He thinks of her bleeding out in the assembly hall. Heard that story before. He didn’t let it happen again. Everything happened way too quickly. 

The side of his face begins to feel sticky. 

Noises keep shifting. He hears fragments of words. _Blood. Ambulance. Fire. Dead._

His vision swims, but the moon never does. It stays with him, even as everything goes black. He isn’t afraid. 

A wish. Fortune. Luck.

_ End Scene. _

* * *

* * *

**Epilogue**

_ The inside of a publisher’s office. Its owner, LEE TAEYONG puts down the manuscript he was reading. RENJUN shifts in his seat opposite him. _

_TAEYONG_ : As we have told you on the phone, we are in awe of your style, Mr. Huang. Truly one of a kind among modern playwrights. 

_RENJUN:_ Thank you, Sir. 

_TAEYONG:_ However, and excuse my bluntness— Is this it?

_RENJUN:_ What do you mean?

_TAEYONG:_ Well, your protagonist died a violent death, that leaves the plot and the other characters’ fates open and unresolved. I trust that this is intended, I do not mean to patronise you. My only question is, why?

_RENJUN:_ Well, you see… _(He trails off for a second.)_ _The Wolves_ is, as all my works are, based on real life experiences.

_TAEYONG, nodding:_ I appreciate the metaphorical dealing with events, very much. It’s what gives your work character and depth. My concern is, that this piece might be a little… Well, depressing. 

_RENJUN, chuckling:_ You could say that, yes. 

_ TAEYONG looks at the manuscript for a long moment. _

_TAEYONG:_ I won’t lie, Mr. Huang, we have done our research on you. The work you did with Yiren Wang’s company last year was a deciding factor in our decision to ask you here. So I am aware that you returned to your studies after a year of recovering from an accident at the end of Junior year. I will not pry, so let’s pretend it _was_ you being stabbed during ritual murder. _(He laughs.)_

_RENJUN:_ Yes, let’s. _(_ _He doesn’t laugh.)_

_TAEYONG:_ But your protagonist doesn’t get that option. He dies. Why, when you returned? 

_ It is silent for a very long moment. _

_RENJUN:_ Sometimes, Sir, things happen to us. They happen,they pass by, and they take a part of you with them. That part can never be mended, it is missing forever, just leaving a gaping hole. That is a little bit like dying. 

_ Silence takes over the office again, until the quiet beeping of a watch breaks it. _

_RENJUN:_ I think that means I am overstaying my welcome.

_TAEYONG:_ Not at all— 

_ RENJUN gets up. _

_RENJUN:_ Please be in contact with me about the ending soon. I’m open to slight changes, but I hope you understand my reasoning. 

_ He leaves. TAEYONG looks at the manuscript again. He sighs. End scene. _

* * *

“How did it go with the publisher?”

“It was interesting.” 

“So it went terribly?” 

“No actually, I think he understood me.” 

“Well, that’s a first!”

Renjun snorts. “You understand me.” 

“Don’t make assumptions about other people! Yuta will be so disappointed…” 

“Yuta is my therapist, not my Dad. He’ll cope when I make assumptions about my boyfriend, I think.” 

It starts to rain as they stop at a red light. The rain slowly builds up and is pelting against the window pane as they cross the river. Renjun closes his eyes, and for a second he is back at Haeun manor, Donghyuck is sitting across from him and they are watching the rain. Jeno is sitting on the ground, putting on a record. He can faintly hear Heejin and Hyunjin laughing in the kitchen as they make tea for everyone. 

“Jaemin?” He says into the quiet of the car. 

He doesn’t get an answer for so long that he thinks the sound of the rain overpowered him, but then Jaemin is looking over at him with a lazy grin. 

“We should call the others later, ask if they want to come over for dinner.” 

And maybe, just maybe Jaemin is right. He does understand him. 

And that’s all that Renjun could have ever wished for. Understanding. A home. Freedom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my twt is aangult unless youre reading this o or after jenos birthday, then its cartiergf !!

**Author's Note:**

> im a drama major, but im not a playwright and this is pretty experimental in that regard so id love some constructive criticism on how you feel about that!!


End file.
